>Rolls a die to determine how many ribs Sarah just cracked.
Foster Member
STATUS: A roleplay not for the timid: "The quest to restore the abandoned Waffle House" 14 days ago
- Last Seen: 2 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Foster
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 4119 (0.91 / day)
- VMs: 33
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- Foster 12 yrs ago
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14 days ago
Current
A roleplay not for the timid: "The quest to restore the abandoned Waffle House"
4
likes
1 mo ago
I do agree with Yandere's sentiment that words not wording workingly do be a problem this time of year.
1 mo ago
Scratch that, place your bets on polymarket.
1 mo ago
Looks like I'll be working on memorial day weekend. And no, this does not mean place any bets on polymarket.
3 mos ago
due to a typo on my part I was nearly convinced I owed the IRS nearly $3000 in excess taxes this year.
5
likes
Bio
-There will be delays in replies. Largely due to working overtime, voluntary obligations; other RPs and online-things may compete for my attention.
'Bout me:
Started RPing (badly) back in '05, mostly doing nation-RPs with an emphasis on technology and strategy, later edging out to character-espionage and military-tactics before doing "less serious" character roleplays that were outside of the 2005-2008 continuity.
That's when I went to Dead-Frontier, and found the RP community there, joined a clan, did some pretty good roleplays and pretty much loosened-up my online-personality. When the clan-leader decided to move her RPs here, most of the clan followed.
Took a course in technical-writing back in '08, so now I may sometimes use the semicolon correctly.
In 2010 I dusted off the old nation-RP continuity I had, doing a few hetelia-esque RP-shenanigans there..
RP-Habbits: I tend to geek-out on little technical-details, and sometimes infer how those details would impact the background of the roleplay. Great for world-building, not so great when you had a perfectly good plotline and I just MacGyver it off the rails (though I usually er to the side of amusement, sometimes it creates very grim side-stories).
'Bout me:
Started RPing (badly) back in '05, mostly doing nation-RPs with an emphasis on technology and strategy, later edging out to character-espionage and military-tactics before doing "less serious" character roleplays that were outside of the 2005-2008 continuity.
That's when I went to Dead-Frontier, and found the RP community there, joined a clan, did some pretty good roleplays and pretty much loosened-up my online-personality. When the clan-leader decided to move her RPs here, most of the clan followed.
Took a course in technical-writing back in '08, so now I may sometimes use the semicolon correctly.
In 2010 I dusted off the old nation-RP continuity I had, doing a few hetelia-esque RP-shenanigans there..
RP-Habbits: I tend to geek-out on little technical-details, and sometimes infer how those details would impact the background of the roleplay. Great for world-building, not so great when you had a perfectly good plotline and I just MacGyver it off the rails (though I usually er to the side of amusement, sometimes it creates very grim side-stories).
Most Recent Posts
In
FRAMEs: Chapter II [Reboot] (Mech combat, politics & corporate intrigue)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
We should probably start putting our accepted apps in the character-tab.
In
FRAMEs: Chapter II [Reboot] (Mech combat, politics & corporate intrigue)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
<Snipped quote by Shorticus>
I've been a little distracted with Fire Emblem Fates and my new job, so I'm forcing myself to get back to the IC.
BTW, discussing whether or not Cyborg-Sarah can lift a minigun by herself.
>Votes yes
In
FRAMEs: Chapter II [Reboot] (Mech combat, politics & corporate intrigue)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
@Shorticus, Massasauga wants to know when you'll come out and play some more.
BTW, good luck trying to 'reel us in'.
Massasauga knows my characters can be a handful when I put a mind to shenanigans, but then there's Darkstar; which is like an irresistible-force meeting an immovable-object.
>I'll post when I can stop smiling.
BTW, good luck trying to 'reel us in'.
Massasauga knows my characters can be a handful when I put a mind to shenanigans, but then there's Darkstar; which is like an irresistible-force meeting an immovable-object.
>I'll post when I can stop smiling.
Working title: Greatest dog in the world
Becker came to a stop upon finding the drifts of snow almost unmanageable, and believing herself a safe distance from the violence, sat upon her haunches and waited for things to settle-down. She didn't have to wait long when a big-blue-flying-beast erupted from the tower and deposited a charr right by her feet. She licked its face, inquiring by taste if it knew Chartose... or whether these two had fought each other... there was the faint taste of blood... Not Chartose's... so not enemy.
She remained friendly to Svarak until Rilana arrived on Kona, with that multi-headed nuisance following close behind; she had the urge to run from it, lest be considered food or prey, but the beast appeared to learn some resemblance to civility from the moon-fey.
Then finally Chartose could be seen, towering well above the mounds of snow as he briskly made his way to her, as Becker made some energetic but ineffectual leaps and bounds toward him only to succeed in making a burrow under his feet, stopping only when a clawed-hand shot through the drift to snatch her up and into his arms. She bit playfully in apology for making him worry so much.
Then attention had to shift to the question of the refugees. Although they had plenty of food on-hand for a meal, it would not be enough to last the entire trip with all these people as dead-weight.
As Rilana argued with the drow captain, Chartose let Becker entertain the crying ice-troll -with supervision- as he tried to regain mana by consuming whatever food and drink he'd managed to pick-off from Becker's small pack as he wrote a few short letters of instructions for Becker to deliver and carry-out with precise timing. Sharing only when necessary in order to have enough time to himself to finish writing and arranging all his note-cards.
He then whistled for Becker to return, at the far-side of the tower, where she was given her pack and papers and then blinked back into her cozy accommodations back in Green Falls; there was a fire roaring in the fireplace, and the door was kept slightly ajar. She krept back out to the barkeep and gave the old man the first note:
<I would like to withdraw all the food I have given you before it spoils.>
The inn-keeper looked at it, chuckled, and was given another letter.
<Are you sure it is wise to be caught losing an argument with a dog? An equal value in food is acceptable.>
As the inn-keeper was about to question exactly what sort of food and its quantities Becker was referring to, she pulled-out an inventory-manifest written by Chartose and nudged it forwards on his desk.
Some time later:
It was no easy feat blinking a dog and about 40 kg of food instantly across time and space, especially when the dog itself weighs only 12 kg, but the simple fact of blinking anything across such vast distances is not often considered easy by many.
Roughly half the food blinked-back was actually the food hoarded back at the caves, the rest were local foods in storage throughout Green Falls... likely raided from the less-desirable donations at a food-pantry. Still, it was 40kg more food than they had.
It was also at this time Chartose had overheard that the books would be left-behind. Meaning he may as-well load Becker down with books to ransom off to Ebonfort later for a profit, rather than unsummon her immediately.
Besides, the new arrivals and Becker could use some time enjoying themselves.
Becker came to a stop upon finding the drifts of snow almost unmanageable, and believing herself a safe distance from the violence, sat upon her haunches and waited for things to settle-down. She didn't have to wait long when a big-blue-flying-beast erupted from the tower and deposited a charr right by her feet. She licked its face, inquiring by taste if it knew Chartose... or whether these two had fought each other... there was the faint taste of blood... Not Chartose's... so not enemy.
She remained friendly to Svarak until Rilana arrived on Kona, with that multi-headed nuisance following close behind; she had the urge to run from it, lest be considered food or prey, but the beast appeared to learn some resemblance to civility from the moon-fey.
Then finally Chartose could be seen, towering well above the mounds of snow as he briskly made his way to her, as Becker made some energetic but ineffectual leaps and bounds toward him only to succeed in making a burrow under his feet, stopping only when a clawed-hand shot through the drift to snatch her up and into his arms. She bit playfully in apology for making him worry so much.
Then attention had to shift to the question of the refugees. Although they had plenty of food on-hand for a meal, it would not be enough to last the entire trip with all these people as dead-weight.
As Rilana argued with the drow captain, Chartose let Becker entertain the crying ice-troll -with supervision- as he tried to regain mana by consuming whatever food and drink he'd managed to pick-off from Becker's small pack as he wrote a few short letters of instructions for Becker to deliver and carry-out with precise timing. Sharing only when necessary in order to have enough time to himself to finish writing and arranging all his note-cards.
He then whistled for Becker to return, at the far-side of the tower, where she was given her pack and papers and then blinked back into her cozy accommodations back in Green Falls; there was a fire roaring in the fireplace, and the door was kept slightly ajar. She krept back out to the barkeep and gave the old man the first note:
<I would like to withdraw all the food I have given you before it spoils.>
The inn-keeper looked at it, chuckled, and was given another letter.
<Are you sure it is wise to be caught losing an argument with a dog? An equal value in food is acceptable.>
As the inn-keeper was about to question exactly what sort of food and its quantities Becker was referring to, she pulled-out an inventory-manifest written by Chartose and nudged it forwards on his desk.
Some time later:
It was no easy feat blinking a dog and about 40 kg of food instantly across time and space, especially when the dog itself weighs only 12 kg, but the simple fact of blinking anything across such vast distances is not often considered easy by many.
Roughly half the food blinked-back was actually the food hoarded back at the caves, the rest were local foods in storage throughout Green Falls... likely raided from the less-desirable donations at a food-pantry. Still, it was 40kg more food than they had.
It was also at this time Chartose had overheard that the books would be left-behind. Meaning he may as-well load Becker down with books to ransom off to Ebonfort later for a profit, rather than unsummon her immediately.
Besides, the new arrivals and Becker could use some time enjoying themselves.
Has anyone seen cherry?
I wouldn't worry about it too much, there's a reason they reduced the minimum rate of posting to once a week per person.
In
FRAMEs: Chapter II [Reboot] (Mech combat, politics & corporate intrigue)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Pretty sure we're all waiting on you.
Since Aristro's next post will jump-cut straight to the military-base.
I don't even believe we have a strike-system of demerits.
Since Aristro's next post will jump-cut straight to the military-base.
I don't even believe we have a strike-system of demerits.
Adrian watched as the figure swung a gun out towards the wall, then he heard a click. Thankfully, said wall was the one opposite the room Joslyn was behind. They then made a motion that indicated they wanted to see this other person for themselves before speaking.
He didn't trust this person, if they were military then they were probably looking for a quick-kill that was less risky than only a pistol to a serious gunfight.. if it was a rival GMG... then it probably didn't matter what he did if they decided to go hostile.
Lowering the rifle on his shoulder, he began slowly un-slicing the pie through the doorway, being careful to keep eyes and distance on the intruder. Once everyone was in the relative privacy of Joslyn's "home", it was 'bout time he tried to seriously identify the figure as he pulled out his flashlight and shone it at the girl's face.
What he saw was a scruffy short-haired blonde person with red eyes and either pects-of-steel or breasts... Then he saw the chain of silver dangling round her neck, dropped his flashlight with a dull thud, and raised his rifle back up.
"Tags. Now." He ordered, in a very hushed mono-syllabic tone.
He didn't trust this person, if they were military then they were probably looking for a quick-kill that was less risky than only a pistol to a serious gunfight.. if it was a rival GMG... then it probably didn't matter what he did if they decided to go hostile.
Lowering the rifle on his shoulder, he began slowly un-slicing the pie through the doorway, being careful to keep eyes and distance on the intruder. Once everyone was in the relative privacy of Joslyn's "home", it was 'bout time he tried to seriously identify the figure as he pulled out his flashlight and shone it at the girl's face.
What he saw was a scruffy short-haired blonde person with red eyes and either pects-of-steel or breasts... Then he saw the chain of silver dangling round her neck, dropped his flashlight with a dull thud, and raised his rifle back up.
"Tags. Now." He ordered, in a very hushed mono-syllabic tone.
In
FRAMEs: Chapter II [Reboot] (Mech combat, politics & corporate intrigue)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
In
FRAMEs: Chapter II [Reboot] (Mech combat, politics & corporate intrigue)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Marlene was relieved to know that Sarah was only joking about being sad, but something was still a little... off.
"They've got the stronger stuff reserved for clearing the oxides off of electrical components." Marlene retorted with a laugh and a smile at Sarah's disappointment in her taste in beer, even though in truth the Kamdeshi-mercenary was still working on the ability to properly handle more than the tiniest amounts of alcohol.
She was just about to offer to let her blow something up when Sarah explained that not everything about being the team-mascot was all sunshine and rainbows, that she'd been re-living every injury she's ever had in her life every night...
As Sarah curled-up into the fetal-position, Marlene just hugged her. "Yes, I think I do know what you mean. But that doesn't make you a freak." She whispered, before letting-go and giving back her personal-space. It was difficult to read Sarah's expression when she was like this, but she figured an explanation on how she could even possibly understand what Sarah was thinking right now was in order.
"The Kamdeshi region used to be a part of the Perizian Union, a very strong ally of the Osbanians. Remember?" She started her story with a question, hoping that some of that propaganda floating in her head would shift focus to allies of the union and stop brow-beating her to self-terminate.
"It wasn't my choice for the region to declare itself in need of self-sovereignty, that was from before my time. Nevertheless, the choice was made, and the newly elected Perizian government officials in the Kamdeshi-region saw the need to rightfully protect their hard-earned autonomy." Marlene had to work hard to remember not to think of her first leaders as a ragtag bunch of inexperienced rebels, but such as they were.
"Our volunteer military was pretty thinly equipped back then, sort of like how the Panthers have been this past year. We maybe had one or two working FRAMES per platoon, even in our best equipped units; others had none at all. But we were all highly motivated. We knew it was just a test, a test to prove that this new system of Perizian government was better than the older, more obsolescent one; despite its shortcomings."
She sighed and took a long drink from her bottle, remembering all the hard-fought battles; the costs of battle made every victory bittersweet.
"When the war ended in a truce, the leaders decided to consolidate their assets, to simplify training and make room for units equipped with more modern replacements. Our unit was re-slated to become an infantry-unit of FRAME-hunters... more cost-effective, they said... Problem is I'm a FRAME-pilot; neither a gun-jockey nor a desk-runner, so I was dismissed. Out of a job."
She set down the empty bottle, not quite sure where it all went, but not really too concerned about it as leaned forwards and her arms hugged her knees.
"So I bought a FRAME slated for decommissioning, old "Lt. D. YASSIR", and went on the market to become a mercenary at a little bar in Sardonia, in a city called Hamarr. Where I met you."
"I seem to remember seeing some video footage of old "B." ripping an arm off an enemy frame and beating its pilot to death with it before taking a shot straight into its radio. From there, despite being functionally-deaf," She paused for emphasis, "continued to assist in the operation even after getting a leg blown-off by getting out and assisting on-foot."
"I joined the Panthers, because units are judged by how well each member trusts their team-mates. And I trust you not to give-up on your friends."
At the end of her story, Marlene looked down, then back up, seeing the crate of ammunition and the gun mount...
"Sooooo, wanna blow stuff up? Got this one gun rigged to shoot twelve-hundred projectiles per second, totally shreds the soft parts of the landscape."
"They've got the stronger stuff reserved for clearing the oxides off of electrical components." Marlene retorted with a laugh and a smile at Sarah's disappointment in her taste in beer, even though in truth the Kamdeshi-mercenary was still working on the ability to properly handle more than the tiniest amounts of alcohol.
She was just about to offer to let her blow something up when Sarah explained that not everything about being the team-mascot was all sunshine and rainbows, that she'd been re-living every injury she's ever had in her life every night...
As Sarah curled-up into the fetal-position, Marlene just hugged her. "Yes, I think I do know what you mean. But that doesn't make you a freak." She whispered, before letting-go and giving back her personal-space. It was difficult to read Sarah's expression when she was like this, but she figured an explanation on how she could even possibly understand what Sarah was thinking right now was in order.
"The Kamdeshi region used to be a part of the Perizian Union, a very strong ally of the Osbanians. Remember?" She started her story with a question, hoping that some of that propaganda floating in her head would shift focus to allies of the union and stop brow-beating her to self-terminate.
"It wasn't my choice for the region to declare itself in need of self-sovereignty, that was from before my time. Nevertheless, the choice was made, and the newly elected Perizian government officials in the Kamdeshi-region saw the need to rightfully protect their hard-earned autonomy." Marlene had to work hard to remember not to think of her first leaders as a ragtag bunch of inexperienced rebels, but such as they were.
"Our volunteer military was pretty thinly equipped back then, sort of like how the Panthers have been this past year. We maybe had one or two working FRAMES per platoon, even in our best equipped units; others had none at all. But we were all highly motivated. We knew it was just a test, a test to prove that this new system of Perizian government was better than the older, more obsolescent one; despite its shortcomings."
She sighed and took a long drink from her bottle, remembering all the hard-fought battles; the costs of battle made every victory bittersweet.
"When the war ended in a truce, the leaders decided to consolidate their assets, to simplify training and make room for units equipped with more modern replacements. Our unit was re-slated to become an infantry-unit of FRAME-hunters... more cost-effective, they said... Problem is I'm a FRAME-pilot; neither a gun-jockey nor a desk-runner, so I was dismissed. Out of a job."
She set down the empty bottle, not quite sure where it all went, but not really too concerned about it as leaned forwards and her arms hugged her knees.
"So I bought a FRAME slated for decommissioning, old "Lt. D. YASSIR", and went on the market to become a mercenary at a little bar in Sardonia, in a city called Hamarr. Where I met you."
"I seem to remember seeing some video footage of old "B." ripping an arm off an enemy frame and beating its pilot to death with it before taking a shot straight into its radio. From there, despite being functionally-deaf," She paused for emphasis, "continued to assist in the operation even after getting a leg blown-off by getting out and assisting on-foot."
"I joined the Panthers, because units are judged by how well each member trusts their team-mates. And I trust you not to give-up on your friends."
At the end of her story, Marlene looked down, then back up, seeing the crate of ammunition and the gun mount...
"Sooooo, wanna blow stuff up? Got this one gun rigged to shoot twelve-hundred projectiles per second, totally shreds the soft parts of the landscape."
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